


God of the Herds

by morrezela



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, M/M, Pining, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:25:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3403766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were gods who weren’t content with their powers or domain. Jensen was not one of those. His discontent stemmed only from the fact that he had spent years without meeting his foretold lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	God of the Herds

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The people mentioned herein belong to themselves. This is a pure and utter work of fiction. Not a teeny, tiny drop of it is real.
> 
> Warnings: None
> 
> A/N: This was written for the 2015 spn_reversebang. Art graciously provided by yanyann. Check out her stuff HERE
> 
> Beta also graciously provided by ldyghst. Thanks a bunch!
> 
> All mistakes you find are my own

When Jensen was young, just a foolish child really, he had been taken to the caverns of choosing. As a young god, offspring of two greater ones, he was to discover what his path might be. There were always rumors, of course, assumptions as to what one’s powers or responsibilities would be based on who their parents were, but until The Deciding, no god ever knew his or her destiny.

Inside the caverns, there had been several alcoves, pools and passage ways. All young gods would go to whatever place called to them. They would discover their way. Some would stay in their parent’s lands, helping them with their domain. Others would venture far off to create their own following, sometimes fighting with other, older gods who established themselves first.

Jensen had been excited about going to the caverns. Every god was, or so he had been told. It was a sacred place for them, steeped not only in tradition but in the powers of the gods before those left behind. Each one left part of their powers in the caverns, the purest form of their nascent energies strengthening the caverns for those who would come after.

There had been dark places when Jensen had wandered through the smoothed stone hallways. Places that were not just absent of light, but of comfort. There had also been angry places, full of burning war and icy hatred.

But Jensen had wandered away from such places. He had felt no pull to the feel of the studious arcane magics or the lighthearted bounce of parties and gaiety. What his hands had curled around were a pair of slim stags horns, pearlescent and warm to the touch. Jensen’s fingers plucked a small harp from nearby, silver strings resounding into the rest of the caverns as he stroked over them.

Jensen had made to leave, when a faint whisper of wind had caressed his cheek. He had been too far inside for it to be the weather of the mortal world touching him, so he followed the breeze. It was not an easy task. The noise of the wind had echoed off the walls, making it impossible to track by hearing. The smell of a warm, summer breeze had teased at his nose, but no matter what direction he had turned, the aroma of it had never gotten stronger.

Eventually, Jensen had wandered into a small, virtually hidden nook. There, littered around in the crevices of the cave wall, had been small gemstones. He had stared for a while, amazed they were glinting even though the nearest source of light was out in the hallway. All of the gems had been beautiful, but only one set had tugged at his heart when he picked it up and cradled it in the palm of his hands.

So Jensen had trekked his way out of the cave. Harp tucked under his shoulder, gemstones in one hand and antlers in the other, he had stepped out of the caverns to be blessed with his destiny.

God of the Herds, they called him. He was tied to the lives of stags and does. He migrated with them and ensured the health of them by playing his magical harp to grow lush fields for them to graze on and to soothe their sickness back to health.

Years passed, then decades, even a century passed as he took care of his charges. Jensen excelled at his calling, but he never forgot that there was still a piece of him missing. Over the years, he had carried the stones of his heart in many different ways.

At first, Jensen had kept them in a leather pouch fashioned from the skin of a fawn taken down in its youth by a lion. Jensen had honored its young life by letting it hold his greatest possession. But over the years, the skin grew brittle. So when the herd he was protecting migrated close to a town, he wandered into it to strike a deal with Felicia, goddess of metal workers. She had fashioned him bracers and set the stones in them so the work of his hands would be aided by his unseen love.

But even Felicia’s work could not last forever. The metal began to wear thin as his cuffs rubbed against his clothing, the fur of animals and the bark of trees. Jensen grew nervous of losing the stones, so he went to the city again. But Felicia had moved on to another town, and Jensen found himself in his cups with special mead crafted by Chad, god of brews. By the time Jensen had recovered from his partying, his herds had moved on to better pastures.

Not all was lost though, as Chad told Jensen of a jeweler whose hands had been touched by the gods. Of course, Chad could not remember the name of the god who had blessed them. Being thrice as enamored of drink as other gods, Chad was apt to have problems with his memory.

Jensen ran back to the herd he has blessed, using his harp to speed his feet with the sounds of melody. They seemed unaffected from his absence, as it was summer. Food was plentiful, and there were no frigid winds that could cause the young ones to suffer hypothermia.

So Jensen left again to sojourn to the small town to find the jeweler. The road to it was rocky, and he half wondered if Chad had sent him to the wrong place, name muddle in his head along with whatever mixture of herbs he had used to affect himself. Or perhaps he had simply dreamt the entire story up, one never knew with Chad.

Eventually, Jensen stumbled upon a small settlement. He was loathe to call it a town as it seemed to not have much in the way of buildings or even people. Granted it was nighttime, and that cut down the amount of citizens who would be roaming about, but he did expect more life for a town that supposedly boasted a jeweler. Such a profession dealt in expensive wears that were rarely purchased by common folk. A large population was usually needed to sustain one’s self.

The magic he used to hide his horns wasn’t a strong suit of his. When mortals happened upon him in the forest, he disappeared completely, either taking the form of one of his stags or turning into a gust of wind or simply turning invisible. Appearing human should by human logic be easier, but it wasn’t.

The art of disguise was like painting a canvas. Little was required to throw a coat of one color across it, but covering it in the tiny sections of color that made a picture required concentration. For that reason, he was glad the tavern he entered did not boast of many patrons. The less people to notice him, the better. The drunker they were, the more any shimmer or slip of his illusion could be blamed on them being too far into their cups.

“Excuse me,” Jensen said as he walked up to the tavern bar, “I’m looking for a jeweler. I’ve been told there is one who goes by the name of Ferris.”

The man behind the bar glared at him. “I know of her. Widow Ferris moved here a while ago. If you’re looking for money, I wouldn’t go near her. She’s a mean one, that woman. Best go on to Barkerton, there is a fine jeweler there. Bought me a fine pair of earrings for my wife from him, gave me a good bargain.”

“Be that as it may,” Jensen said, “I would like to speak to Ferris. Can you tell me where she lives?”

“Up the road that way,” the man pointed in a vague direction. “Keep going until you see a big boulder that the road hooks around. Head towards the big tree that’s leaning, and keep going until you find her house.”

“Thank you,” Jensen said as he began to move away.

“Just done blame me if she tries to stick a dagger in your gut,” the man called out as Jensen left.

Even though it was nighttime, Jensen walked out into the woods. He had no desire to stay in the human town, and the forest was always more welcoming to him than streets and buildings. The only place for deer in a settlement was roasting over a fire or being a nice piece of leather. Jensen did not begrudge the mortals for their need of such materials, but he could not fit in amongst them either.

The forest was quiet at first as he walked into it. Only after he lightened his tread back to one of his godly calling and not one of man, did the night animals begin to stir again. The disguise of human clothing disappeared to his normal garb, the white fur of his cloak reflecting the moonlight. His antlers became visible again, casting shadows on the ground around him.

They had gained another point that summer. Jensen ran his fingers over the newest point. He should be proud of it, and he was. The point meant he had increased in maturity and power. Jensen was good at fulfilling his calling. The herds under his protection flourished, and those that did not belong directly to him still felt his blessing.

But that point also meant that he had passed another milestone without his love by his side. He wondered how many more markers he would pass before his love appeared. Perhaps they had not noticed the brush of wind when they had done their choosing. His beloved could be a bit forgetful or not be so concerned with details.

Jensen bit his lip as he sat down on a moss covered rock to gaze up at the moon. He should have paid more attention to the goings on of his fellow gods. Perhaps he would have heard of any new gods or goddesses going to their choosings. He could have attended them to see if any of their eyes matched the stones he held so dear.

Of course none of that would have been helpful if his intended was older than he was. That was a possibility, though not one Jensen preferred to think about. The one meant for him could be so much older that he or she could have given up hope, given up looking. Or they could have given up the search for Jensen. What if he had simply been born too late?

What of his one had been killed? There were plenty of wars that could have killed his one. Not all gods were peaceful. There were those who lived to participate in mortal wars. They enjoyed killing the followers of their rivals and rejoiced at the opportunity to slay a fellow god. Even those who preferred to live in harmony would take up weapons if a harbinger of war and strife came into their magical realm in an attempt to take it.

Jensen’s worries were old worries. All the scenarios had been running through his head for as long as he’d had his gems in his possession. He had no doubt they would continue to plague him until the day he found his love or found out what had kept them from him.

A flicker of movement caught Jensen’s eye. Keeping his body still, he flicked his eyes from the moon downwards. To his left, a pair of glowing eyes looked out at him from the bushes. They stared at him, unblinking.

“You can come out,” Jensen said, power rolling through him to show the creature he was no human.

The large cat slunk out of the shadows, a dead rabbit in its mouth. It dropped its prey at Jensen’s feet.

“An offering?” Jensen asked. “You honor me, but I have no need of your supper.”

The cat blinked at him, lifting a paw to lick at before rubbing it against its face.

“Your kind are exceptionally vain,” Jensen informed it. The cat ignored him.

“I can only imagine meeting the god of your kind. He must spend a horrible amount of time before a mirror. Must fix his hair seven times a day,” Jensen mused.

When the cat finished its grooming routine, Jensen nudged the rabbit back at it with his foot. If he was human, he might have gotten his foot bitten.

“I thank you for your gift. But go. Eat with my blessing,” Jensen told it.

The cat took one last look at him before taking its offering and departing. Jensen turned his eyes back to the sky and waited for the sun to rise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The morning was still young when Jensen approached the modest cottage he had been told Ferris owned. There was a chance it was still too early for him to come calling, but he was reasonably sure whatever dagger she would supposedly pull on him wouldn’t kill him. The blessing given to her work would have to be intensely strong for her to manage to seriously injure him.

“Can I help you?” A haggard looking woman asked as the door he rapped on opened.

The cordial greeting surprised Jensen as did the beauty lurking behind the tired features of the woman. It was life and not age that gave her features hardness, yet her voice was pleasant.

“I need something made. I’ve been informed you’re quite a ‘gifted’ jeweler,” Jensen told her.

Ferris looked him up and down. “I’m more gifted than you think. Gifted enough to know when you are not the ‘man’ you are pretending to be.”

“I would not wish to frighten you with my true appearance,” Jensen smoothly lied.

Ferris snorted at him and threw the door wide open. “Your looks already scare me. Someone so pretty is always terrifying.”

Jensen smiled and walked inside, though his eyes were drawn to the rounded belly of the woman.

“Hell of a present my husband left me,” she answered his unasked question. “He dies, and I’m left with his debt and no way to pay it on time. I had to leave the city for this mud hole of a place just to escape his creditors.

Jensen nodded and politely turned his eyes way. “I need something for these,” he said as he pulled out his bracers from where he had stowed them in a linen sack. “The stones,” he clarified, “though if you wish to use the remnants of the metal for this project or another, I do not care.”

“They’re beautiful,” Ferris told him as she held the gems up to the light. “Quite an interesting combination of colors you have there. Blues and greens and ambers all mixed together like that isn’t the most common of sights.”

“No, it isn’t,” Jensen agreed.

“So what do you want made out of them? Bracers aren’t my forte, especially not this style. Do I want to know just how long ago you had these made?”

“Probably not,” Jensen told her.

Ferris smiled. “I can make you bracelets, though you don’t seem the type. Perhaps a necklace? I can cage each one, so I don’t have to make a hole through them. Then I can string them on a cord. You can wear it around your neck.”

“That will do,” Jensen told her.

“Good. Then we’ll discuss payment terms,” she told him.

“I can make your creditors disappear,” Jensen offered.

Ferris snorted in an unladylike manner. “I’ve been doing just fine by myself,” she said with a glance to the rack of knives hanging next to the door. “And don’t bother offering a blessing. Last god who did gave me a boost in the quality of my work, but no customers to buy form a lady metal worker.”

“How about this then?” Jensen asked as he opened his sack again to pull out a pair of pristine, white antlers. “They were shed from a white stag. One of the most rare of my main herd, he was massive in size. They could be carved into fine beads or sold to a vendor in a city.”

Ferris took them from him and ran her fingers over the surface of them. Jensen could see she was looking for flaws, but he pretended not to notice.

“Deal,” she eventually said, holding her hand out for a shake.

“Deal,” Jensen agreed taking her hand in his. “Thank you, Ferris.”

 

“Samantha,” she corrected. “Sam, preferably. You might as well know my given name for as long as you’ll be here. It’s going to take a bit to get all the work done.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The time that passed was not long in actuality, not compared to the ages Jensen had lived. For the most part it was dull. Sam would go off in the mornings to the small workshop she had built in what had once been a shed on her property.

Jensen was left to his own devices. He played sometimes with the cat Sam had brought home to help kill the mice that would take up residence in her living spaces. He would take walks in the forest, bolstering any deer he would find and thickening the carpet of grass he walked upon.

The cat, though, he did not see. Part of him was saddened by that even though he should not have been. Cats were keen on not being seen. They loved to stalk prey and be silent. Jensen had seen wolves in his life far more often than he had seen any of the large cats that occasionally hunted one of the members of his herds.

Jensen did not spend that much time around Sam. He knew better than to interrupt an artist at work, and they were not friends. But the time that he did spend around her made him very much doubt her child was her late husband’s.

It was just a sense he had. The way his power increased when near her as if to protect him was something he only felt when in the presence of another god. The way he felt the need to prove himself as capable was also unusual. He had no doubts Sam was not carrying a human baby.

Eventually, Sam unceremoniously handed him his necklace over breakfast one morning. The construction of it was seamless and sturdy, yet still visually appealing. Jensen handed over the horns and wrapped his gems around his neck.

“There was a reason you were blessed,” he said as he finished putting the necklace on.

Sam gave him a cool look.

“Your child isn’t human,” Jensen told her. “I can feel its power. I do not know if it will be a demi-god or a god or something else, but it will not be just human or even a magically gifted one.”

Sam looked down at her stomach. “You can’t be certain of that.”

“I can,” Jensen insisted. “It’s father…”

“Doesn’t know of my pregnancy,” Sam cut him off. “My gifting was because I did him a favor. He was injured, some fight or another. I let him a room in my home for some money. The people began to say I had turned into a whore letting strange men in my bed.”

She paused and looked out the small window nearby. “They were not wrong. He was handsome. I’d wager you all are,” Sam gave him an appraising look and added, “he was damned good in bed.”

Jensen smirked at her attempt to unnerve him. “But?” he prompted.

“But it was just a bit of fun for both of us. He gave me the blessing because he was sorry for the trouble he caused me and was grateful for the shelter I gave him. He doesn’t know, and I don’t want him to know,” Sam stressed.

“I’m not going to be telling anybody, least of all him,” Jensen told her.

“Good,” Sam said.

“But you should know your child will need to learn about his or her powers. I’ve written down some information,” Jensen said as he slid a bundle of papers over the table to her.

Sam stared coldly at them. “I don’t want to be involved with your kind,” she told him.

“Your child…”

“Will be raised human,” she told him. “Now go. Our business is finished, and I expect I’ll be dead by the time you need my type of services again.”

Jensen rose, bowed to her and left.

~~~~~~~~~~~

As first one and then another decade passed, Jensen would sometimes think about Samantha Ferris. Rather, he would think about her child. Had he destroyed something in his adolescent anger? Was she completely unaware of her heritage, yet wondered why she felt so strange?

They were idle questions, or so he told himself. Jensen had never bothered himself with the concerns of other gods before. He had his friends and acquaintances, and that was enough for him. If the child had gone off and started destroying towns, there were plenty of others whose calling befitted taking care of that sort of thing.

So Jensen tended his herds and did his duties and added one two more decades to his years of pining for his true love. He had a peaceful existence.

Then came the day that he found the tracks.

They were large, bigger than the span of his hand. They were feline in nature and fresh. Jensen and his herd must have barely missed the predator.

There was nothing to worry about if the herd was together. Deer were often mistaken as being unable to defend themselves. They were strong and vicious, able to trample those who meant them harm.

But a lone fawn or an older deer falling behind? They would be ripe pickings for a cougar or mountain lion or jaguar.

While Jensen knew the reality was that part of his herd was destined to be dinner for another animal, he wasn’t about to give up one of his deer to a hunter that couldn’t even properly disguise its tracks. So he led his deer off to safer pastures.

Only the cat followed them. In the night, Jensen could hear the yowling. At first, there was only one. Then there were two calling in the wind. The sound would’ve made chills run down a mortal man’s spine.

Jensen thought it might be the sounds of mating until he realized it was the wrong season for it. Then he thought it might be a fight over territory until there was a third and then a fourth call joining the others. It was definitely a pride.

Prides were dangerous. Jensen knew that much, even though he had never before found them in the area his herd was in. It was a curiosity, but he was not so intrigued that he wanted seek out the cats.

So Jensen moved the herd again and again and again. The tenacity they were followed with was amazing at first and then suspicious. Jensen was no fool to think his realm of power was not desirable to some other god.

Jensen ran his herd far and long before leaving them in a safe pasture before doubling back. Their continued chase gave him no choice but to discover them. The search for his followers was not difficult. They had learned stealth over the period of time that they had been chasing Jensen, but they had abandoned it in their haste to shorten the lead Jensen had on them.

They made no effort to hide themselves. The entire group was sprawled out in a meadow. What surprised Jensen were the variety of cats that were in the pride. There was a spotted leopard next to a mountain lion. There was one Jensen could not place and a leopard whose dark coat hid its spots from view.

“There you are,” the man standing behind the pride said. In his arms, Jensen noticed, was a small housecat. It was an odd picture.

“Who are you?” Jensen asked.

“Jared,” the other god said with a smile. He began to walk towards Jensen, not putting down the cat he was holding. “They call me the god of prides,” he said as he moved closer. “I’m not sure what that means exactly. There was this cave and…”

“You are Ferris’s son,” Jensen interrupted.

“Yeah,” Jared admitted. “Sniffles here is the descendent of her house cat.”

“Sniffles?” Jensen asked dumbly.

“She sneezed a lot as a kitten,” Jared explained.

“What are you doing here?” Jensen asked.

“I came to find you,” Jared told him as he came to stand before him. “I’m told you carry my eyes around your neck. Although, I’m glad to see is not literal, because actual eyeballs would be disgusting.”

Jensen stared into his eyes. The colors were identical. He did not know what to say. After all the years of waiting, he was left speechless when he finally met his love.

“I, uh, got these at that cave thing?” Jared said as he shifted his cat into one arm to fish a set of green gemstones out of his pocket. “Am I supposed to have jewelry made out of them? Because those guys at the place were seriously unhelpful and somber. I think they were pissed I didn’t come out with a calling for debauchery. They kept mumbling something about a chad?”

“Chad,” Jensen told him, “he’s a bad influence on everybody.”

“Oh,” Jared said dumbly.

“I’m not sure what to do now,” Jensen admitted. “I kept waiting for you, and now I don’t know what to do or say or how this will work.”

Jared smiled. There were dimples. It was adorable. “Well, that I know something about. Humans do this get to know each other thing? So I’m Jared, uh, God of the Prides? And I’ve to tell you I thought they announced it as ‘pride’ first. I was upset. Do I look prideful to you?”

Jensen looked over at the four cats lazing on the ground. “You’re leading around cats. They’re naturally haughty.”

“You just don’t know them,” Jared argued.

Jensen smiled. “No, but I’d like to.”


End file.
